Prompt: Not PerFect is GoOd
by Ngoc Chau
Summary: Theirs was a fate tangled and knotted up and tied, yet unbreakable and forevermore connected. She should not have been born. But He had crossed that line and brought her into existence, kept her close to him. Mayuri x Nemu, Part 12/12 of Proposal


**Ngoc Chau does not own Bleach**

**OMG! The String is over! Ah, but don't worry! More will be coming soon! Next one is Nemu being pregnant! Hope you enjoy that!**

**So, this is a conclusion to the romance of Mayuri and nemu. they will never get married in this universe. Never. It's just not possible, but that doesn't stop them from being together. They defy decorum and morals only for what they see as 'functional'. Their life is not romantic and perfect, even for fanfiction, but they accept that and will try to make the best of it themselves and 'go with the flow'. OMG! How did I get wound up in the crack-y romance! I used to ship Nemu/Uryu, but not anymore! I don't like them like that anymore! Oh, god I'm tired. It's about midnight, but I just wanted to get this up to start on the new string for tomorrow. It should be up on Monday or Tuesday or so. Wednesday at the very latest. **

**Well. read and review, please.**

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><p><strong>Prompt: Not PerFect is GoOd<strong>

Nemu regarded with secret delight to how Mayuri tended to his yawn: flapping hand in front of his mouth, as though trying to repel it back into his body.

The pills he had taken, which she had given to him, had yet to rejuvenate him. She had exhausted him earlier but he was, at least, not so tense. A flush painted her cheeks as she sat in front of her vanity, her head bowed slightly with hands on her lap, her nerves inside her legs still trembled from the amorous tryst few minutes prior. He, on the other hand, showed no indications of ever having gone through such an experience; except a tiredness that was disappearing by the second. Though knowing him so well, Nemu knew what fatigue could incite in his belly and brain that hardly anyone would ever suspect Mayuri having the energy for. He was sitting on the bench of her vanity alongside her, though their faced opposite directions: the mirror reflected her face, for him it was his back. They had sat in this fashion very long ago, though this occasion had no hostility between them on her part.

Both were neat in appearance and no one would've suspected what had occurred behind closed doors involving the first and second seats of the twelfth division.

Nemu had undone her braid, letting it cascade freely down her back and shoulders. Albeit he had not vocally voiced the desire to see her long hair undone. Mayuri ran his painted hands through her long Godiva-like hair, it was miraculous that the white paint that he always applied onto his skin did not transfer to the dark raven locks. He retrieved a brush from her and moved its teeth through the hair, his digits following suit.  
>She gave a small secretive smile more for herself than for him, she enjoyed the gentle pull he could perform on her hair. She heard him breathe into the locks, barely felt it, but heard it acutely. His painted lips reached her skin and it excited a shiver in her, she did not try to hide it away from him; they were alone after all, and privacy was a luxury enjoyed by the two of them. A hand of his stroked her bare thigh upwards. Then the long claw on his right hand found its destination at the base of her neck where her choker wrapped round and round like a ring.<p>

He traced the thin line of skin beneath the edge of it and she turned her face towards him. Her lips pursed, hoping that he would grant her a small kiss. He did not, for he moved away from her. The claw moved deliciously along the skin, remaining close to her as he left his seat to stand behind her. He buried his face into the top of her head, his arms wrapped around her neck, and his hands touched her chest. She arched her back in order for him to grasp more of them. His hands slunk away, still remaining contact on her until they buried themselves in the vines of her hair. He loved her hair, that she knew very well. She remembered in early days, he would tell her that her hair was the most difficult to create: the sheen of it, the follicles, the very length of it was taxing when he could've made it short or left her bald… He would cover his face in the fine strands of it, drown himself in the scent of her shampoo, and touch it as though it were the strings of a grand instrument. It was not habitual for him to braid her hair, such an action was the closest thing to intimacy(the sex did not count, Reader. How? I do not know) and affection that she would receive from him - that would not end with hot sticky skin and a mess between the legs. He braided it whenever he was not busy and he was feeling generous and rather fonder of her than usual.

And so after a good lengthy time of indulging himself in her hair and brushing at it and combing with his fingers and teeth, he divided it in three to braid it as the usual facon Nemu had quickly adopted once the style had been introduced to her by one Unohana Retsu. Two locks had been left untied to better feminize her face and he did like the reminder of long hair.

Could he hear her now? Though insignificant her thoughts may be? She was obediently still for him to twist and twine the hair and as he did so, she could not help but think about how strange their lives had been, are, and were going to be. He had created her, used his own blood as a basis for her body in that she would essentially sustain anything he could, making her less of a liability to him as others would be instant victims to his poisons. She in turn had strived to do everything she could to please him, to earn her the privilege to exist beside him. Then from creator and creation, father and daughter, she had achieved the closest in terms to him: captain and lieutenant. Still the father and daughter relation prevailed, even when they had become lovers. But what rose above all was that they were scientists, existing for a whole other purpose to push further the boundaries that their work currently offered and prepare it for the minds of the next generation who would surely bring new ideas and perspectives. How odd life and death could be sometimes.

Her head had grown dizzy with thought though she was still conscious enough to know that he had left her and was already heading out to the door.

He snapped harshly at her, "Nemu! Enough Dawdling! There's work to be done."

She did not argue with him nor did she think of something witty to say that might make him look foolish and childish. She nodded, "Yes, Mayuri-sama." and followed after him like a dog to its master.

No one knew a thing of it, suspicions barely rose and when they did, said source of verbal suspicion would disappear. The older scientists who had been there since the early commensuration of the SDRI knew how that its second chief was not so easy going nor laid back, and so they knew better than to talk freely than some of the other ignorant shinigami who were no better to the brains and upper seats of the division and the SDRI organization as cannon fodder.

The lab doors opened with a slow-motion swing, its hinges had been oiled and treated to almost-perfection that whenever it opened, there would be no noise to disturb the researchers during their experimentation. His white haori billowed behind him as he entered, everyone fell silent and cautiously looked up to acknowledge their captain. Older scientists, again, knew etiquette and so they raised a hand to greet him. Though the fact that they were all on amicable terms with the frightening man and his daughter would probably be a factor as well why they were more at ease to not look up from their work than some of the young and much younger underlings.  
>They all bowed to him, greeting him and welcoming him into Lab 9. He nodded his head to them but did not voice his own response. He passed by the shaking lot to go into one of his offices that had been set up in that particular lab, Nemu trailed behind him: serving to greet some of the shinigami for Mayuri.<p>

He entered his office and she felt his disheartening that there was nothing new to really dissect unless he felt like pulling out one of the old cadavers, pulling it apart to just see the sight of blood and open guts. Nemu was silently hoping that he would not be too displeased with her throughout the day and decide to take her apart again. She bit her tongue as a self-punishment for thinking that and possibly giving him the idea. He said nothing and already went to his computer and opened up the online reports that were updated to past and current experiments that were being undertaken once more or newly. There was paperwork delivered and left on his desk and surely there would be some on her desk outside.  
>He need not have asked her, for she was already quick in taking his pile of forms and papers in her arms to go away and leave him in peace. She would fill them all out for him to the best of her capabilities. Luckily, filling out the forms on behalf of her captain made her feel glad to know that she was helping, albeit in some small way of lessening the burden of this nuisance, and it was not so difficult to fill out the forms for she had been present for each of the occasions.<p>

All the meanwhile, the shinigami would come to her or Akon to inquire about their work; Mayuri was a man who was not so quick to give up his time for mere subordinates and so it was often considered a privilege to receive any of his time. The Lieutenant and the Head Scientist were good substitutes for the Chief who ruled the organization and his division with an iron fist. Of course, both were not difficult to work with and did not refuse many offers because the shinigami of the SDRI proved most of the time to be a studious lot who sometimes delighted the senior and higher ranked officers and scientists. When there were no questions to be asked, Akon went about with filling out surveillance reports as usual while Nemu was left with filling out mere reports that covered a great variety of things: hollow huntings, hollow collecting, new equipment that had been destroyed and would have to be replaced, new results of the inventions used in order to protect humans from hollows, etc… The work was abundant and it was not uncommon for father and daughter to spend days apart, seldom was that they would have spare time in a day. But she could not complain for she found no reason to complain.  
>He was not gone in some unknown place nor was he dead, she worked at ease to know that he was just working at his computer beyond the red set of doors. And his anger had not risen once at all that day and that was another thing to be glad for: less chance of a beating. He was not a bad man, cruel in a way and sadistic, but he was not bad. His anger just got the better of him sometimes and she knew from the empathy they shared that it was difficult to control it. If it had not been for the various drugs that he often administered in her food, she would not be too different from him when he became angry. Pity that the side effects of the drugs was a slight occasional dizziness. And he could not afford dizziness in his line of work. But she was nonetheless happy to be of any use of him in every way and any way; she did not want him to worry about anything.<p>

It was very late in the evening, close to the next early morning, that she finished his paperwork first then hers. Simultaneously, she brought the two piles to his office for him to simply read over and sign his approval. His back was facing her, the computer screen glowed blue and white in the dimness of the office. His keys were constantly clacking with hardly any signs of stopping.

She greeted him by name, "Mayuri-sama."

He did not turn around to face her but continued working, sans a single word addressed to her.

She walked over to his desk and laid the papers on top, ready to be signed. Before stepping out of the office, she inquired him if he would be needing anything.

He remained silent and she took it to be negative. However, she thought to bring him some tea and pills to help him stay awake and avoid exhaustion for just a little bit longer.

Back in the labs, a newbie scientist had approached her to show her a strange reading he had gotten on the monitors regarding the spiritual pressure. She called for Akon; she was ready to authorize the orders, but what was to occur when met with matters of spiritual pressure was more up Akon's alley than Nemu's. The solution was not so simple to send shinigami to take care of it. Monitors would be sent above to investigate, teams would have to go in order to clean up messes and memories, as well as capture the cause of the disturbance alive. The reading of the spiritual pressure was not necessarily dangerous, but the amount of it would prove interesting. He called for the package E-126.  
>Nemu authorized the deployment of the package and already a group from the ninth division was demanded. The ordeal was something but it was not necessarily frustrating.<p>

Just as she left and asked everyone to resume working, she passed by the clock that marked the middle of the afternoon. He had been working since very early and she thought that by now, she should bring him tea and pills.

Upon entering his office with said items, she saw that he had moved from his computer to a more simplistic desk that offered more room to do paperwork, but its surface was covered with a layer of rough notes. It was difficult to tell them apart, but she would not un/intentionally mock her creator and question the state of the desk. She served him his tea and he only acknowledged her presence there when she placed the steaming cup.

He drank without thanking her. But she did not mind. She stood waiting, as he sat and drank up pill-filled tea, for him to finish to take it away and not have it disturb his work.

Suddenly, she noticed his golden eyes moving up her body and stopped at a certain spot. But Nemu sensed no lust from him. She stayed motionless, save for tilting her head slightly forward so that she might investigate what had caught his attentions. She realized then what he had regarded.  
>Unconsciously, her fingers had found their way to the choker about her neck and she was rubbing it between her tips. His golden gaze caught her and it was wide and not at all menacing in its glare. She looked to him and let go of the choker.<p>

The space between them grew suddenly awkward, infinite as though if she reached for him now, she would never touch him.

The corners of the mouth were subtle and they moved smoothly. He flashed her a wide maniac's grin of square yellow teeth. She smiled back in her own way and composed herself, burying the most of her emotions for the sake of her creator and their work. His smile disappeared and seriousness took over. She stood obediently by his side for a moment as he proceeded with his work, then she left to perform the usual occupations and duties as lieutenant.

Their life was far from perfect, falling pathetically short of it. Anybody else would gladly exchange for better means and opportunities. She who was always his puppet to use as he please. He who was frowned and looked upon in disgust, called mad. The blood that flowed between their veins and were shared by them tied each of them closer and closer, yet divided them. Space and time was not enough, but the circumstances of their lives and origins had to interfere with their fates as well.  
>Theirs was a fate tangled and knotted up and tied, yet unbreakable and forevermore connected. She should not have been born, she should not have been there next to him. But he had crossed that line and brought her into existence, kept her and raised her as his daughter. And she was thankful to him, grateful on the verge that she should love a madman who would not hesitate to kill her if his anger would get the better of her. Their lives were far from perfect, many things could be called for and many things could go wrong.<p>

But he knew this one fact and she had to agree with him silently: perfection, even as a state of being, was a thing to be loathed. Perfection brought a halt to progression, nothing short of practically saying, "I give up." It offered no satisfaction, no chance to continue, simply the end. How dull, she could practically hear him think whenever the topic of perfection was brought up.

What they had was assuredly not enough for them as scientists, as researchers who should pursue the new and strange and bold, as who they were.

And the rest of their existences would be spent fruitfully at the SDRI, the Gotei 13, Seretei, the Soul Society, perhaps even beyond into the Real world… finding and reaching for the substances that would make and mark their time as people of science torturous and worthwhile… _together._

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><p><strong>... I hate writing what they do in their work. It's boring and I have no idea. But I do like writing romance and interactions between the scientists, and I like writing out motives and thoughts. Science work is just dull as ever and so I'm worry if it's a bit crappy to read.<strong>

**So... any comments or suggestions?**


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